Levels of Hate
by LadyIconDraco
Summary: Harry is walking home one night when he stumbles upon Dudley beating up a very familiar if hated, wizard. Which one does he hate more? Is he willing to help one out? eventual DMHP.


This is my first attempt at an HP fic. I really should be working on my Labyrinth fics, but this got stuck in my head.

Pairings: eventually DM/HP, RW/HG, maybe others.

Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter, if I did it would not be suitable for all audiences.

_Fuck, I am so dead. If Dudley beats me home again Aunt Petunia will have my hide. _Just as the Boy-Who-Lived ran around the corner a voice reached his ears that he never expected to hear in his neighborhood.

"Get off of me you filthy muggle!" Harry spun to the left, where the sound of the wizard's voice originated.

"Ha, D-man he thinks that he can hurt us with that puny stick, I couldn't even pick my nose with something that small." The brunette's eyes widened, he rushed in the direction of the voices, hoping that he would not be too late.

"Piers let him go."

"Why? You want him all to yourself D-man?"

"LUMOS!" There was a scream, but Harry was just glad that the spell had not been a dangerous one; the light also told him that he was headed in the right direction. Dudley and two of his friends had somehow cornered the son of Prong's classmate and surrounded him. Piers was bent over, holding his eyes. Another of Dudley's friends leapt at the wizard, knocking the wand out of his hand. "Unhand me you brute!" Dudley, who had been moving to run at the sight of the wand, began laughing at the comment.

"Looks like we got a right poof here, boys."

"Yeah well, leave some for me. That butt slut is getting it as soon as I can see again."

The thug that had knocked the wizard to the ground jumped on him, straddling the teen to keep him down. He began to punch the downed Hogwarts student in the face.

"I got a better idea. He's a poof, I bet we could have some fun and he'd like it." At those words Harry ran right into the group, his own wand drawn.

"Tell that piece of trash to get off of him." He had the wand pointed directly at Dudley's fat face, a look in his eyes that the boxer had never seen. "Now, _D-man_."

"You can't…you can't use that, not outside of school." The stutter ruined Harry's cousin's attempt at courage.

"And why not? He did." Harry gestured to the prone teen. The members of Dudley's group were still and silent, watching the pair. "And if you will recall, Aunt Marge didn't exactly suck down helium."

"Is he a friend of yours? What is one of your kind doing here?" Harry was amazed at the level of cool that Dudley was able to maintain; he guessed that it was the presence of the other two that fed him the courage.

"Actually I hate him, but I just happen to hate you and your _boys_ even more. Now get that fucktard off of him and leave." Harry moved his wand, as though to cast a spell; Dudley immediately caved.

"Let's go."

"Why are you afraid of that nance, and his stick? I wouldn't be surprised if he was this queen's boyfriend." The speaker lifted his fist to connect with the face of the wizard again, but Dudley stopped him.

"I said 'let's go', are you deaf as well as stupid?" Dudley turned back around. "This isn't over Potter." Harry walked over to the fallen blond, grabbing him under the arm and lifting him up.

"No cousin, it's not. But know this, if you say one word to Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon I won't have much reason to hold back next time, will I?" The portly teen stormed off, his cronies following close behind. "Are you alright, Malfoy?"

"I will be once I get out of this bloody muggle neighborhood." Draco Malfoy jerked his arm out of Harry's grasp and moved to the area that his wand flew in.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Harry moved to the area also, lighting his own wand to help in the search.

"Spying on you, of course. My turn. Why did you help me?" The blonde bent over to retrieve his wand from the grass; that was when Harry noticed his attire. A tight body suit, done in dark grays and black, the brunette doubted that had it not been for the lights in the park that Dudley's group would have seen him. His mind went slightly off track then as his gaze was drawn to the blonde's rear, perfectly accented by the suit. "That wasn't rhetorical Potter." The boy-who-lived tore his gaze away and looked in the direction that the attackers had gone.

"I told Dudley, if you were listening while you got your face punched in. I happen to hate my cousin and his friends more then I hate you, which is a feat, I assure you." _Are we actually having a conversation? Weird._

"Oh, does the golden boy have problems at home? I might know what that was like, if my father wasn't in Azkaban." Draco didn't put his wand away, but neither did he point it at the brunette, Harry took that as a good sign.

"For attacking a group of teenagers. Why don't you take it up with Voldemort? He was there, and could have saved your father and the other Death Eaters easily." Harry's gaze drifted down, between the blonde's legs, the suit hid _nothing_ from view. _Damn, he's huge. What the fuck am I thinking! That's MALFOY!_ Harry had already discovered that he was bi; he had no trouble admitting it. He had even told Ron, who he was not attracted to. The red-head had been a little jumpy after that, but had since become comfortable again. Harry forced his gaze back to the blonde's face, which was now gushing blood from his nose. "You should do something about your nose, it looks broken." Malfoy had not noticed the brunette's drifting gaze much to his relief.

"Shit." He pulled out a handkerchief and brought it to his nose.

"Tilt your head back and hold it right here." Harry demonstrated where to place his fingers to best stop the bleeding; he had eleven years experience with bloody noses after all. Draco complied with the suggestion. _Why aren't I leaving?_ Harry could have left then, but for an unknown reason felt the urge to stay.

"How long have your family treated you like that?" The question startled the Gryffindor.

_Yep, should have left._ "My whole life, what's it to you?" He hid the hurt of years of emotional abuse well, but from the look he received over the now crimson handkerchief; Malfoy did not believe his tone.

"They sent you to live with muggles, after what you did for them?"

"_Because_ of what I did for them. Dumbledore thought that it would be best if I wasn't raised as a hero." The blood was not stopping and it was starting to worry the boy who lived.

"So he stuck you with the worst kind of muggles imaginable. I assume that they have hated you all of your life, but how long have they feared you?" Draco wasn't at all worried about how much blood he was loosing; Harry doubted that he knew very much about injuries or bleeding.

"My aunt and uncle have since I was little, though I didn't know they did until first year. My cousin started fearing me at the same time I learned the other two did... You're losing a lot of blood there, I think you should have that looked at." He stepped forward, reaching a hand out to the Slytherin.

"I'm fine Potter." He took a step back ward and nearly fell from dizziness; Harry caught his rival before he could hit the ground. Draco tried to throw him off, but received a wave of blackness in return.

"You're losing too much blood. We have to get you somewhere that we can get a better look at it. Mrs. Figg's is the closest place I can think of." He pulled Malfoy's arm over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around the other teen's waist. The pair made it to Mrs. Figg's door before the blonde passed out.

"Harry, what...Oh dear, get him in here quickly." The elderly lady stepped aside to allow her once charge and his companion into the room. "What happened to him?"

"Dudley." The trio moved into the living room and Harry laid Draco on the couch. A woman Harry didn't know came into the room.

"Mom, who was at the door…" She saw the two teens and concern filled her eyes. "What happened to him?" She drew her wand and went straight to Malfoy's side; in a wave his face was clean. Mrs. Figg took a step back when she saw his face.

"The local bully decided that he needed to try out his new boxing moves on someone. Malfoy got in the way." Harry collapsed on the chair nearest to the couch, watching Mrs. Figg's daughter work. "Are you a Healer?" The woman gave a wordless nod; he decided not to disturb her again.

"What are you doing with Draco Malfoy?" Her tone was aghast; the brunette turned his attention to her.

"I was headed home when I heard Dudley's gang beating on someone. I saved him and carried him straight here, he said that he was spying on me."

"And you brought him HERE!" The healer glared over her shoulder at her mother.

"What did you expect me to do? Leave him to Dudley's mercy? No one deserves what he does to people." Harry's gaze slid back to Draco's still form. "Besides, since the trial everyone knows that you live near me."

"He'll live; he just needs a little rest and lots of liquids. Is there someone you can owl to get him out of here?"

"All I can think of is Snape." _And I really don't want to talk to him._ He left the end off of the sentence, not wanting to look like a spoiled child. He gave a sigh and turned to Mrs. Figg. "Do you have an owl I can use?" The old lady nodded and left the room, presumably to get the owl. "I'm Harry by the way, Harry Potter." He stood and extended a hand to the woman who had tended to his classmate.

"It's nice to meet you Mr. Potter, my name is Abigail Figg." She took his hand. The Teen-who-lived had a brief flashback of an unaccepted handshake, but shook it off.

"Nice to meet you, it was good luck that you were here; I don't know what I would have done otherwise." He glanced back down at his rival.

"I'm sorry it had to happen at all. You and mother acted as though it was the norm; does this bully harm a lot of people?"

Harry nodded. "My cousin loves to show his own power. He's a boxer at his school, he isn't quite that disciplined when it's outside of the ring."

"But boxing isn't really all that dis…oh, I see. His parent's just let him?"

"According to them, he can do no wrong." Mrs. Figg entered then, owl cage and writing supplies in hand. "Thank you." Harry took the parchment and pen, writing a brief note to his potions professor. When he finished, the teen attached the letter to the owl's leg. "Will he know where to go?"

"Yours isn't the only owl that can find its way around Harry." Mrs. Figg opened the window, the owl flew out and headed into the dark night.


End file.
